


love me blue

by orphan_account



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, M/M, ahahha they’re cuties in love, also this is a char study mostly bodhi thinking about his parents, cassian and bodhi r in love!!!!!, minor?? Idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It worries him, perhaps not enough, that he doesn't remember much about his mother.





	love me blue

**Author's Note:**

> so this has literally been sitting in my drafts FOREVER like ... nearly a year now so i tweaked it up and finished it off to post so sorry if it’s a little abrupt lol

It worries him, perhaps not enough, that he doesn't remember much about his mother. He remembers the press of her fingers against his palm, gripping him tightly as they navigated the streets of Jedha City. Her palm was warm, enveloping his hand in comfort and familiarity.

“Stay close, jaan,” she had murmured and let his hand go briefly to test the ripeness of the fruit. He remembers, for some reason, her picking up three and tossing them into her bag before plucking her purse out of that very bag and dropping several credits into the vendor’s palm.

The clink of credits rings hollow in his ears.

He remembers the way she braided his hair, neat and tight with a small, plastic elastic to hold the tail in place. He remembers her strong fingers work the tangles out of his dark locks and then weave them into a pattern. 

He remembers his father laughing so genuinely, lines formed at the corners of his eyes. He remembers his father’s voice, too, rough but kind and his dimpled smile. 

He remembers her eyes, almond shaped, bright and steely. He can’t remember his mother’s voice though; Bodhi wants to believe was soft, unchanged by the Empire’s regime. That she spoke with the confidence that never left her eyes. He wants to.

Bodhi brings it up to Cassian one cool summer night on Yavin 4. They’re in the hangar, hands linked loosely. The smell of gasoline and motor oil is oddly comforting.

“I don’t remember my mother much,” he pauses and then turns to Cassian, who watches him with piquing interest.

“I remember my father, though,” he laughs, a little forcefully and then shrugs, “sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He doesn’t know why.

“I don’t remember much about both of my parents,” Cassian averts his gaze briefly, eyes scanning the empty hangar, “is that weird?”

Bodhi tightens his grip on Cassian’s hand and shakes his head, “you were young.”

Cassian only nods.

-

They’re off planet when they’re captured by bounty hunters. Cassian gnaws at his lip and paces around the small cell, alert and calculating. Bodhi’s head bleeds from where he was hit so he lowers himself on the damp floor. His back hits the cold wall and he sighs, pressing a few fingers to his temple. They come back sticky with blood. There are a few others with them, regular people, most likely for labour, in their cell, too. They huddle in the corners, eyes big and fearful.

“You’re from Jedha, yes?” A woman asks and Bodhi turns to her, perplexed. She watches him curiously and when he nods, she smiles and reaches over, grasping his hand. Her hands are weathered from the sun and rough but Bodhi finds comfort in her touch.

“I can tell,” she says wearily.

Water drips steadily from a crack in the rock above them.

“Me, too,” She leans forward and tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear and then speaks up again, with a voice that doesn’t tremble and eyes that don’t flicker.

She reminds him of his mother, oddly enough.

“You’re hurt,” she states and then immediately rips a piece of cloth from her shawl, pressing it to the crack where the water comes from. Something painful rises in his throat as he watches her dampen the cloth for him. It takes a minute but eventually the cloth gets soaked and she dabs it against his temple. It’s cool and soothes his ache immediately.

“I have not been to Jedha in years,” she says quietly; her expression morphs into one of sadness, one that Bodhi’s painfully familiar with. He tells her about Jedha city. Her gaze doesn’t break and when he’s done, she presses her lips together and weeps.

A few hours later, Cassian forms an escape plan. He watches, amazed as Cassian shoots a few guards and then grabs Bodhi’s hand, leading him out. He's brilliant and beautiful like this, eyes focused and mouth turned into a firm frown.

Bodhi doesn't see the woman during their escape, but he can only hope she finds safety. 

Cassian grips his hand tightly on the shuttle back to base and doesn't let go. Bodhi doesn't object.

-

For the first time in his life, Bodhi dreams of his father.

He sees their house, small and wooden by the rippling sand dunes. The wind blows, a gust of icy chill that has him shivering. He sees his father, beside him and smiling, for some reason. His cloak is heavy, woolen and worn, like his weary smile and dim eyes. When Bodhi reaches for his father, he disappears.

He wakes up with a lump in his throat and an emptiness in his heart.

He thinks of his father, calm and preserved and his mother, hotheaded and dangerous. He thinks they were good.

(But being good never decided who lived and who didn't. In war, everyone paid the price.)

He thinks about these things, over and over again. The schematics of evil and who he is. How his parents fit into the game. He thinks about what kind of piece he is and what he contributes. He thinks until he's worked himself into a headache and then, hesitantly, Bodhi slips back under the covers and goes to sleep. 

Cassian wakes him up with a gentle shove. Bodhi sighs blearily and rubs his eyes, waiting a second as they focus. Cassian’s peering down at him with a soft smile and Bodhi feels heat against his neck.

Bodhi cranes his neck and manages to catch the time on the clock. He sighs again, curling into the bed and away from Cassian.

“The sun hasn't even come up yet,” he says raspily, clearing his throat.

“The new recruits are running laps,” Cassian says simply, “I could use the company while I’m on training duty.” He shrugs and his gaze flickers from Bodhi’s eyes to his own boots.

Bodhi wrinkles his nose and despite the warmth and comfort inside the bed, he shoves the covers off and sits up.

“Okay,” he nods and then stands, shuffling to the bathroom.

Cassian’s waiting by the door, reading something on his datapad when Bodhi exits the refresher, dressed in soft grey pants and a loose t shirt, hair tucked into a neat bun.

He looks up and then smiles, something soft and full of affection that has Bodhi ducking shyly. Cassian leans forward and kisses him.

Bodhi is quiet as Cassian directs the new recruits, unable to stop grinning as they pant, jogging around the grounds as the beginnings of morning light begin to seep in from behind the leafy trees.

They go to the mess hall for breakfast; it's already bustling with the new recruits laughing and jostling each other. The whole hall smells of spices and bread.

When Cassian flops down beside him, Bodhi doesn't hesitate to grab his hand under the table. This earns him a small smile and he chews on his bottom lip, reaching out for a bread roll with his free hand.

“For a group of beginners who are about to get their asses kicked, they sure are excited,” Bodhi comments and Cassian laughs a little.

“Poor kids, they don't know the hell they’re in for.” He replies, reaching over to Bodhi’s plate to snatch a roll.

Silence falls over them for a few minutes as they eat, comfortable in the bustle of the mess hall and in one another’s company.

“I dreamt of my father,” Bodhi says abruptly.

Cassian takes a sip of his caf and then turns to face Bodhi, “yeah?”

“It was weird,” he says, “I missed him even though I don’t remember much about him.” He continues. 

“I know what you mean,” Cassian replies, thumb stroking soothingly over Bodhi’s. Bodhi knows he understands.

They finish their breakfast in comfortable silence.

-

He doesn’t dream of his family anymore.

A part of him is almost sad, nearly empty and growing like a dark, aching cave in his chest. Another part of him is angry for letting their memory die like this. For letting his parents be forgotten even in his dreams.

“I’ve forgotten them,” he tells Cassian one lazy morning, voice on the cusp of breaking.

It’s muggy outside and sunlight filters in through Cassian’s window, blooming over Cassian where he lounges on his bed, tinkering with his watch.

“You haven’t,” Cassian says after a moment and then gestures for Bodhi to come closer.

He wriggles from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and closer to Cassian absently.

“I have,” he replies and then leans forward until his forehead connects with Cassian’s shoulder. He breathes in the faint smell of earth and engine oil and sighs.

“They will always be with you,” Cassian says, one hand rubbing cautious, soothing circles against the small of his back, “in your heart.”

“Not good enough,” he breathes and Cassian’s hand tightens against the fabric of his shirt.

He doesn’t reply.

**Author's Note:**

> ;)


End file.
